


A Song From the Deep

by GhostNarratives



Category: Original Work
Genre: Mystery, Other, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:42:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostNarratives/pseuds/GhostNarratives
Summary: The investigation of a stolen artifact takes a Music Professor to the Police Department. His story however, is as strange and mysterious as they come.





	A Song From the Deep

\- So, go on. Tell that story to the captain. - ordered the young police officer.

The man sitting at the interrogation room sighed without looking back at the captain that just arrived.

\- Look, I don't know. - said the man - I think it just might be some joke, you see? I'm sorry I interrupted...

\- Professor Marcos, isn't it? - came the female voice from the professor's back.

He turned and saw a woman’s figure, and a black woman at that. He felt like a ton was raised from his guts. 

The captain smiled.

\- I see. - she said - You have too many reasons to be alarmed. You, a black man, come to the police saying you have intel on a priceless stolen artifact. Not that many white people, and mainly officers, will give you the benefit of doubt. Do you feel more at ease with me?

Marcos felt like he was about to cry. Was that a real police captain?

\- I- I do! - he replied after the expression on the captain's face wavered for waiting too long for an answer - I'm sorry. I'm just speechless, that's all.

The captain kept her smile.

\- Is it really that hard to see a black woman as a captain of the police? - she teased.

\- Oh no no. I mean, yes- but no, that's not what I was talking about.

\- That's okay. - said the captain - Relax. Breathe. Simon, bring him a glass of water, please. - she said to her subordinate.

As the officer left the room, the captain sat in front of the professor and relaxed after a deep breath.

\- You may call me Jessica, by the way. - she said - My friend won't be back for quite a while, so we have the room for us. Now, please, tell me your story.

Marcos took a deep breath himself, thinking of a story he rehearsed in his mind too many times before coming to the police.

\- In February this year the University Department of Museology made a huge acquisition of artifacts. - he started.

\- I remember that. - barged the captain - We provided security for the transport. Are you from the Museology Department?

\- Ahm, no. I'm from the Music Department. I will get there. Sorry.

Jessica shook her head and waved her hands showing that there was nothing to be sorry about. Then she made a gesture to zip her mouth and urged the professor to continue.

\- Well - he continued - It comes to be that many of those artifacts were never seen before. Part of a great collection found in a house in ruins. The one that concerned me was a kind of musical instrument.

\- We weren't sure that it was a musical instrument at the beginning, you see. I mean, the Museology Department wasn't sure. But after a month or so of investigation, they called us: me, Jonas, a piano teacher and a dear friend, and professor Howard Lock. Now, I never met professor Lock before, but I read all his work.

The captain limited herself to nod in comprehension.

\- He's a genius of music history and theory. But it is said that he couldn't play for the past 30 years. I was thrilled to meet him. I didn't even know he was part of the Music Department until then. I guess the best way to describe him is that he was an odd old man. His hair seemed like it didn't see a comb in ages and his clothes were, well, at least outdated. His eyes, however, caused the biggest impression. They were dull and dead, and the dark circles around them were as deep and dark as I've ever seen. He was 73, but looked like 131!

The door behind Marcos opened, and he felt his heart stop.

\- Captain, the water. - said the officer.

\- Put it on the table and leave. - she said abruptly.

Marcos' heart was now beating like crazy and his chest hurt.

\- I'm sorry. - said Jessica putting her hand over Marcos' - Go on, please.

...

The three of us went to the Museology Department in March and they showed us the artifact. The "stolen" artifact that you're searching for.

At first we thought it was just a strange rock. And we didn't quite understand why they asked us to be there.

Jonas was the first to put his hands on the piece. He examined it very carefully and saw holes in the piece. He asked the professors of the Museology Department that said the holes were the main reason they had brought us there.

At first they thought they were from deterioration, but after further inspection, they found it was human made. Rough, but still human made.

There were also lots of carvings on the surface that could've been the depiction of sea creatures. Although I don't recall seeing any of those anywhere else. And neither did the Museology professors.

Professor Lock was the most restless of us all. The whole thing seemed to him like a waste of time. He wanted to go home and back to his studies. So he just went on and said that, if it was a musical instrument, it had to produce sound. Which obviously made sense. So he just went ahead and blew the rock from several of the holes, until one of them produced a sound that makes my skin crawl just to remember.

Saying it was a whistle, or a flute won't do justice to that thing. It WAS a kind of wind instrument. But the weirdest I've ever seen and listened to.

Further investigations that day didn't prove useful, so we scheduled more visits and went home. In fact, the investigations over that month wouldn't prove useful at all. We couldn't find anything about that instrument anywhere. No matter where we looked.

To be honest, it was frustrating. Only professor Lock didn't seem upset. In fact, he was the livest one every time we had a meeting at the Museology Department after that first meeting. He was always trying to blow something out of that instrument. He even found out that it was a two-piece instrument. One of the rocks could be rotated to change the sound each hole made. And after every try, he would take notes on his notebook. He would never allow us to look at that though. We just took that as a weird habit of his.

In May, Jonas and me, as well as the whole Museology Department, were disheartened. We searched in every collection and library we could find or get in touch with. Nothing like that instrument was ever seen or documented before.

At the end of that month, I had a meeting with professor Lock and the Museology Department, and he was radiant. The dark circles around his eyes were even deeper than before, but his eyes were sparkling.

He said he wanted me to listen to something. Which was strange, seeing as I was told he didn’t play anything in decades!

When we got to the Department, he didn't even greet anyone. He went straight to the artifact, cleared his throat, took a deep breath and blew it.

I hope one day I'll be able to forget that sound. All the employees in the room left as soon as he played the third note. I don't-

I don't even know how to explain it. Have you ever listened to the sound of one of those Aztec "death whistles"?

Now try to imagine you could hear a whole song played on it. A proper song, but so disturbing, that you grind your teeth in hopes you'll become deaf.

That song was worse than that.

I couldn't, however, for the life of me, leave the room. It's like I was dragged to that sound. Like it could spawn images in my mind. Like I forgot I was in that room...

When professor Lock stopped playing, he was exultant! Like a 5 year old boy with a new phone. I went to him, to ask him to never play that again and that’s when I saw he had teary eyes. He hugged me and cried like I’ve never seen a man cry before.

He couldn't stand, so I sat on the floor with him and held him in my arms. It was so sad to see an old man like that crying so copiously that I couldn’t help but to cry myself. And now, I can't help but let the tears flow, just remembering that and what came to pass later.

...

Marcos dried the tears from his face, sniffed and tried to recompose himself.

\- I'm sorry. - he said, reaching for his pocket - As you know, in June the Museology Department reported the theft of the artifact.

\- It's okay, professor. - said the captain trying to calm the man down - Can you keep on going?

He nodded.

\- After the theft, we didn't see professor Lock again. I, as responsible for the group, tried calling him. Because I also wanted to know if he was fine. He answered after a couple of days and said there was no reason to go back to the University. 

\- Because there was no artifact to investigate. - completed Jessica.

\- That's what I thought at first. - said the professor - But he never answered the phone again, so I went to visit. I couldn’t forget that song he played and how he cried in my arms after that. I was worried. So, after asking the whole Music Department, I found out that he lived in a house by the sea and I drove there Saturday in the afternoon. - he sighed - That's one of the problems.

The police captain noded.

\- You're the last person to have seen him alive.

\- Yes... in a manner... - said Marcos looking at the envelope he took out from his pocket - His house was decrepit. Like it was ten times older than the man itself.

\- After honking for almost half an hour, I decided to knock. For all I knew he could be dead inside! When I got close to the house, though, the front door opened and professor Lock appeared, like a zombie. He was skinny, his clothes were dirty and his facial hair was a mess.

\- And you didn't bring him to a hospital or anything? - asked the captain.

\- I tried. He didn't want to leave. - said the professor with a high pitched voice - Said he was fine, in fact, better than ever in his own words. So I decided to call his family on Monday, when I could get their contact data from the University.

\- That didn't happen, though... - said Jessica.

\- The earthquake drowned the whole area around his house. - said the professor in a low voice - I read they couldn't find any sign of Howard's existence there.

\- It was a surprise for us all. - explained the captain - We never had earthquakes here. And one that almost wasn't felt in the city at that! The only sign we had were the agitated animals. 

\- Maybe they knew. - whispered Marcos while he slid the envelope over the table to the captain - I can't read that again. But if you're willing... This was brought to me on the Monday I decided to call Howard's family. 

Jessica opened the envelope and found a worn out piece of paper with terrible handwriting inside. The ink was also stained in some areas, like someone cried over the paper. She read it.

...

My dearest friend,

I want to say I'm sorry for that scene at the Museology Department. You, as a fellow musician, should understand what I felt at that time.

In 30 years, I haven't been able to play any instrument. I have played all my life. With my eyes closed. However, after an accident, I couldn't anymore. I tried all known instruments, I've taken classes in secret, but to no avail.

All music to me turned into suffering. I couldn't bear to live in the city, where people listen to all kinds of music so loud. I turned bitter and moved to the sea-side. I stopped lecturing at the university and spent my days here. Waiting to die. 

The fun thing is that sitting on the porch, watching the sun set down on the sea was almost musical. And I started feeling an itch, like I could hear it, but I couldn't play it. I tried every instrument I had in my house. Tirelessly. I felt that song needed to come to life. It meant something to me! I knew it!

Then, the invitation to the Museology Department came. And when I blew that perfect instrument, I knew I had found it! After so many years! For the first time I felt a slight relief.

I couldn't sleep that day. I started taking notes and experimenting with the sounds of that instrument. It sounded incomplete at first, before I found the rotating stone. It was then that everything made sense. I even started dreaming about that song.

Dreams of a world under the sea. The strange thing is that I was always so scared of the deep sea. But these dreams I'm having, they're so beautiful. I hear the song playing in my ears, like the sound propagates through the water, directly to my body. I can FEEL the music!

And there is this shade, this blurry shade that talks to me in a deep strange voice that I can't understand, but yet, I understand completely. It wants me, it wants to meet me. And I know, because he tells me, we'll meet at an end, where all beginnings start anew. Like the sun dies in the sea, it is reborn again in another. The sea connects all! But I need the music! Without the music, it won't happen! It won't come to me like it promised!

That day you held me, my friend, was the day I played my first song in 30 years! And it resonated within my entire soul! I know you felt it too, because you cried with me. And I know everybody else felt it, cause they couldn't stand the sound of such a beautiful song.

But it was not complete. It was not correct! The dreams told me that it was not yet THE song.

That's why I needed that artifact. I need the song to be perfect and I'm so close to it! I'm rehearsing night and day and I think I finally got it!

I was about to try it for the first time when you came here earlier today and it was the hardest thing for me to postpone it to receive you. But a friend is a friend. 

I'm very thankful for your visit. I didn't have a friend these past 30 years, but now I know I have one. Thank you! And I'll play for you one day!

P.S.: 

***

\- The lines of the postscript are thorn out. - phrased the captain like a question.

The door opened again and Simon came in. 

\- Captain? - he said - They're waiting for you.

\- It came to me like that, captain. - replied the professor - It must've been ripped in the way, or professor Lock himself ripped it after reading. He's a busy man. Probably couldn't afford the time to write a whole new letter and just took out the part he didn't like.

Jessica looked into Marcos' eyes and sighed.

\- I see. - she said - Well, that'll be all, professor Marcos. I thank you for your time, and I'll keep this, if that's okay with you.

Marcos looked at the letter like a poisonous thing.

\- Please, do. - he said

The professor stood up and followed Simon out of the room. In the corridor, Jessica reached him before he left.

\- Marcos, what of the notebook?

\- Burnt. - the professor replied with a sigh - Please don't look anymore, Jessica. It's deep beneath the waves now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a series of exercises. I’m working on short stories that allow me to write more about different subjects. These are to be done in under one hour. Needles to say this took a little longer, but I got carried away xD  
> ...  
> https://linktr.ee/ghostnarratives


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